Four Times MJ Talked to Gwen
by paycheckgurl
Summary: Friendships are built on conversations. Oneshot.


**A/N:** 616 comics verse. Written for Spider Ladies Postive Relationship (SLPR) Fest on Tumblr. **Warning:** contains a poor attempt at capturing incompressible 70s MJ, references to obscure fandom things everyone forgot about like MJs age and five second interest in Psych. Yeah sorry about that but…at least as didn't acknowledge Sins Past as a thing like I was planning to do in the first draft?

**Disclaimer:** I would really appreciate if Disney and Marvel paid me, but sadly, that's not happening.

**I**

Gwen Stacy had a new romantic rival in the redhead that infiltrating their little gang with all the force of a hurricane and none of the subtly. And yet, while every instinct Gwen had said she _should _want to claw Mary Jane Watson's eyes out, instead she'd let Ms. Watson whisk her off to the grooviest disco in Manhattan for a girl's night out of dancing.

"Come on Tigress, let's boogie!" She called. Gwen was Tigress according to MJ, the counterpart to the Tiger who was Peter. Did romantic rivals usually give matching nicknames to the people they were competing with? Or was MJ just that much of an enigma?

Soon it didn't matter, though, the two got lost in the beat of the music, dancing up a storm and gaining the adoring stares of the crowd. The bright lights flashed as the two shook their hips back and forth to motion.

"Nice moves, Gwendy." She complimented. "You've really got the groove, girly-o!"

Gwen smiled. "Back at ya, red!"

The two danced until the club closed, attempting to hail a cab. Mary Jane looked at her. "Just so we're clear Tigress, I like your swinging moves and want to hang out on the regular. We have our thing with Petey-o but let's be more Betty and Veronica and less Coyote and Roadrunner, dig?"

It was kind of a forced comparison, but Gwen understood; Betty and Veronica, always fighting over Archie but inexplicably the best of friends anyways.

"Yeah, we can do that."

II

Mary Jane had become such a constant figure of their lives that Gwen hadn't realized she didn't _actually _go to Empire State with the rest of the gang. MJ was a grade below the others. It was an easy fact to forget because, again, she was never not around; her presence at the Coffee Bean was an unquestioned fact. Although her absence at the University was about to be a non-issue as soon as the next term started, one Mary Jane Watson was going to be on the registry list.

MJ sat on Gwen's bed with the ESU course catalogue spread out. Her feet were hanging in the air in that stereotypical teenage pose as she highlighted classes and flipped through pages. Gwen was ostensibly there to tell her which professor were an easy pass or eye candy, but as MJ wanted to get her Associates in theater arts and Gwen didn't think her science based recommendations would be of help.

Mary Jane hummed to herself, circling more classes. Gwen's head went sideways when she realized her friend had circled both Psych 101 and Plays of the Elizabethan Era.

"I thought you wanted an easy A?" Gwen asked. While Gwen thought Psychology was an easy pass as a soft science, it was hardly what she'd recommend to theater major. Likewise, MJ had always said her ambition was to be a pretty film star; the typical Fonda film hardly sounded like something out of the mouth of The Mighty Thor.

"All the world's a stage and all the men and women are merely players;" she quoted "they have their exits and their entrances; and one man in his time plays parts, his acts being seven ages." She readjusted herself to be sitting upright. "I'm an actress Gwen, and I need to understand the roles we all play in this crazy cat whirlwind world. I might even minor in psychology to get in the minds of the creeps and geeks out there." She went quiet for half a second after that statement but her ever present smile and perkiness was back just as quickly as it seemed to leave. "Besides, Aunt Anna says I might need a backup plan in case things go blows-ville. I'm paving my way to greatness. 'It's not the stars that hold our destinies but ourselves'. That Shakespeare was a cool cat."

Gwen wondered, not for the first time, if there was more to Mary Jane Watson then the party girl role she outwardly played.

III

Gwen and MJ were sitting on a bus stop bench in companionable silence when MJ took a hard look at her. There was a seriousness there that she'd never seen from the other girl before.

"Do you ever think about Spider-Man?"

Gwen's answer was automatic, "I think about how much I'd like to see him dead. He killed my father."

MJ bit her lip. It almost like she was trying to lead Gwen somewhere with the question, but to be perfectly honest the mere mention of the madman made Gwen's face hot and ignited a war against the tears that wanted to drip down her face. Once upon a time she was the very poster child cold and collected. These days she barely ever put up a fight and just let the tears conduct a full frontal assault on her face.

"He wears a mask, right? And he's this silly jock that likes punching things like he's Muhammad Ali even floats like a butterfly and stings like a bee."

Gwen just blinked. Maybe she wasn't going anywhere with this after all.

"But what if he's not really like that," she continued "what's if he's only pretending to be the sports hero and is actually like this bumbling professor cat. What if there are two sides to him, and he we only ever see the one?"

It was a fair question. But not one Gwen wanted to deal with.

"Like think about Peter." She said. "He's all shy, latter than the white rabbit to the world's entire goings on, and seems a bit square if you don't take the time to get to know him. But underneath it all is this groove-tastic hunk that can make even one of those British Guard people crack a smile."

Gwen just looked down at the side walk. "It still wouldn't change the fact he killed my dad." Her voice shook at the end of the sentence, the tears having already mounted their campaign and making their way down her face.

Mary Jane was quiet. And then, softly, she pulled her into a side hug. "I really liked your dad you know. And I'm really sorry he's gone."

They stayed embracing one another until the bus came.

IV

MJ sat Indian style on the wet grass. It was getting late, but there was still light left over from dusk.

"Hey Tigress!" she chirped "Been a while Pussy Cat, hasn't it? Guess I've been off in the snooze fest of the daily grind…wow, did I really used to talk like that? You really should have stopped me at some point."

MJ toll and a moment and just shook her head, trying to get to her real point. "My little girl died," she said in a small voice. "I never even got to hear her cry. She was taken from me…I don't even have a little body to bury. Nine months growing and kicking inside of me, and then she's just…gone. Like she never even existed. My little May."

She let herself shed some tears, attempting to get more words out. "It's been crazy. All these clones popped up and... And Norman Osborn's back and the only damn thing good thing about_ that_ night, that _damn_ night was I thought he was gone for good. He was the one that did it. The bastard that took her and orchestrated the big 'ole mess that's been our lives lately. Of course it was him. He takes everyone I love in the end, doesn't he?"

The tears were coming full force. "I miss you Gwen. I miss you so much."

Dusk had ended and it was now pitch black. She walked away from the gravestone in silence.


End file.
